


You Used To Say (Holy Fuck)

by blueryan



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Band Fic, M/M, but the rest is show canon, okay so this is mostly book canon, the parts about the band this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 12:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12631263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueryan/pseuds/blueryan
Summary: "Everything that you taught meGot twisted up, on the inside."-The one where Simon performs an angsty song about how much he really needs to talk to Raphael.





	You Used To Say (Holy Fuck)

Tonight was a fairly sizable crowd for a Thursday night at the Alto Bar, Simon thought as he threw his guitar strap over his shoulder. Much better than last Thursday at least. Truthfully though, Simon didn't really care about how many people came or who heard his music, all he really wanted was an excuse to not think for awhile.

There were a lot of things he really didn't want to think about right now. However, it was hard to get out of the hotel, none of his clan really trusting his motives after the whole Camille and siding with his destructive Shadowhunter friends debacle, but he always found a way to get out to perform a set at least once a week. It was the only thing that really held him together nowadays.

No one knew he was still playing with his band, not Clary, not Lily, and especially not Raphael. He didn't believe that the older vampire would think playing with his very human and very oblivious bandmates would be a smart idea. Besides, Simon was a little embarrassed. His band really wasn't all that great to be honest, and they still couldn't decide on a name years after their formation.

Simon glanced around at the rest of his bandmates, seeing if they were ready. Kirk, Matt, and Jordan nodded or gave him a thumbs up; alternatively, Eric was impatiently tapping his drumsticks against his thighs and raising an eyebrow at Simon, letting him know that he was the holdup.

Whatever, Simon didn't care if Eric was getting testy. That dude was 155 pounds of pure angst regardless of anything.

Simon spun to face the crowd. "Alright guys, I'm Simon Lewis and we are-" and... He blanked.

Fuck, what even was their name this time?

"We are-"

"We're The Exploding Radishes and we're here to rock your world!" Usually Simon would be annoyed with one of Eric's many interruptions, but tonight it was a lifesaver.

Without bothering to introduce the song, Simon knew no one in the audience cared about them anyways, he began to strum the chords.

_"Do you think my eyes should be wider?_

_Do you think my expressions should match?_

_How it is on the inside, to say_

_Do you think my words should be wiser?_

_Do you think my expression should match How it is on the inside, to say"_

Clary's warm eyes permeated his vision, the taste and scent of Java John's light roast brewed coffee invaded his senses.

He felt a warmth spread through him, happiness? No, he decided, happiness wasn't the right word in the slightest. It was simply the feeling of blood pumping through his veins, of the caffeine having an effect on his system.

Why was it that shitty coffee was what he missed the most about being human?

This memory wasn't even a happy one, but as he sang the lyrics he was reminded of how different of a life he had once led was. He wasn't ever happy when it was just him, Clary, and the occasional phone call from his sister Rebecca.

He had faked almost everything back then: his smile, his bravado, his wit.

Nevertheless, he craved those days.

_"Holy fuck, I'm about to die._

_Angry for no reason, twisted up inside._

_You used to say."_

Cold hands roughly shoving a blood bag at him, the dark night sky suffocating him, unfamiliar faces all around flooded Simon's mind.

He closed his eyes as he sang.

He never wanted to be what he had become, and that didn't just include being a vampire.

God, he missed being a blend-into-the-scenery high school kid. 

Or was that really what was causing the cavernous hole in his chest?

Or was it that Raphael hadn't looked at him with caring in his eyes since Camille had escaped?

Was he regretting becoming a vampire, or was he regretting what he had done since being turned?

_"You used to say, 'Don't be angry'_

_I finally understand why_

_Everything that you taught me_

_Got twist up, on the inside_

_Wicked roots that take me under_

_Are twisted up on the inside."_

All of the sudden he was 5 years old again, sitting with his mother and sister in their car outside his father's funeral ceremony, tears streaming down his face. Rebecca was crying too, but not out of sadness.

"I don't understand why he's being so freaking emotional about this!" She had screamed, frustrated at the world. "He's a freaking child, he doesn't even comprehend dad's death! He's not allowed to be sad! He didn't even know him like I did!"

Simon hadn't know what comprehend meant, and he wasn't sure why Rebecca was angry, but something about the way she was speaking made him hurt.

"You're mean! You're mean! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" He had screamed back, equally as perturbed.

Elaine Lewis, being the absolute saint that she was, patiently waited for her children's hiccuping screams to be done before speaking. "You're both upset. I'm upset. But Rebecca, you have no right to tell your brother he is not allowed to be sad. I'm sad. We're all sad."

Rebecca's face had burned with both embarrassment and stubbornness. "But mom-"

"Rebbeca Erin Lewis." His mother's voice had been firm, but filled with affection. "The world has taken so much from you today, and you're allowed to be angry. The both of you are."

Something in Simon's young mind seemed to understand that he was about to be told something he would need to remember. 

"But don't be angry at each other right now. Right now you need to be strong for each other, not to turn against one another. Right now I need you to be there for me too. Mommy needs you two to be strong for her right now." It was the first time Simon had seen his mother crack, a black mascaraed tear streaking down her face.

He took for granted when he had her.

_"Holy fuck, I'm about to die_

_Angry for no reason, twisted up inside_

_Holy fuck, I'm about to die_

_Holy fuck, I'm about to die_

_You used to say..."_

Now he was 19 years old and afraid. He had just been taken into a clan of strangers, told that this was his life now and that it would be easier for him to just accept it. That it would be impossible to leave now.  That he couldn't, or shouldn't, talk to Clary and his mother ever again or at least until he could control his bloodlust.

Raphael Santiago was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life, but that wasn't enough to stop the fear clawing away at his insides.

He felt Raphael's arms wrap around him as he sobbed tears of blood, screaming like a child about how none of this was fair, about how he hated Raphael for letting this happen.

He never hated Raphael.

Despite Simon's vindictive comments and the fact that he was clearly aiming to cause hurt, Raphael had stayed all day, preventing Simon from running into the daylight in a crazed act of defiance.

Raphael had always stayed.

And fuck, Simon missed the feeling of sun hitting his skin on a warm day. There weren't many of those warm days in New York, but Simon missed them nonetheless.

Simon opened his eyes as the song faded out. He was done reminiscing for the night. 

The crowd was cheering, but the sound rolled in waves off of Simon. He didn't really care about recognition anymore. That was a childish human boy's dream, not his.

His dream was a lot more complicated these days.

Raphael's lips curling into a smirk haunted his mind.

 

The band finished their set early that night.

Simon helped load up Eric's van, smiling and sharing congratulative high fives with the rest of the band.

"Dude! That fucking ruled!" Kirk yelled, throwing his arm around Simon's shoulders. "We all totally need to go back in and like, mesh with our fans, ya' know? Like talk to 'em, see if they would buy CDs or something!" 

Fans, Simon thought, was a bit of an extreme term.

Eric and Matt both seemed to think this was a great idea, instantly on board. 

It was only Jordan who noticed Simon's somber attitude. "Yeah guys, Simon and I will be in in just a sec. We're gonna make sure we have everything from off stage first, alright?"

They were all already shoving their ways back in.

Simon tensed, not really caring to hear the werewolf's pseudo intellectual advice tonight. But Jordan wasn't going to lecture him tonight, it seemed.

"Man, I know this... Change in lifestyle," he was careful with his words, hyperaware of the two men smoking near them in the alley, "Has been really hard on you. It was on me too."

Simon had heard this same spiel from about 5,200 other downworlders since being turned.

"But that's not what this is about right now, is it?" Simon was a little surprised, Jordan wasn't often this observant.

"No," he answered slowly, carefully, "It's not."

This was not a conversation he wanted to be having.

Jordan nodded, understanding. "I won't ask about it." Simon was grateful. "But I would talk to him, if I were you."

Simon spluttered, eyes widening at the unexpected comment. 

He was about to defend himself, but Jordan was already heading back into the club. 

"Tonight I'll cover for you if you decide to go home," he said, pausing at the entrance, "I'll tell 'em you found some cute girl or boy to go home with. Something that'll make you sound cool." 

When the metal door slammed shut behind him, Simon was left all alone with his thoughts. 

And fuck, when it was this quiet he couldn't distract himself from the longing tugging at his veins. 

In a second he was out in the street, hailing a taxi back to the DuMort.

He was going to make Raphael talk to him, and he was going to take the first step in regaining the man's trust. 

He'd waited long enough already.


End file.
